(I am an assistant manager in the box office of an exhibition space in Times Square. This exhibition space has many investors. One is a popular cable television network from which the space took its name. A relatively normal-looking customer approaches my window.)

Me: “Hello! How can I help you?”

(The customer pauses, looking nervous.)

Me: “Did you have any questions about the exhibit?”

Customer: “Um, yes.”

Me: “Okay… go ahead.”

Customer: “YES! I was wondering why you took away my [aforementioned cable network] channel. I can’t understand why you would do that. My children and I really enjoyed learning about the things that we saw. It was good!”

Me: “Ah, I see. Well, even though [cable network] is our namesake, we’re not at all affiliated with their programming. I’m sorry. I would recommend calling your cable provider to see if there were any changes in your service.”

Customer: “No, but yes, but NO. I can’t understand why you would do this! Because you see it’s my CHILDREN. It was something that we enjoyed TOGETHER.”

(My mum and I are waiting in line to buy our ticket. We are behind two older ladies.)

Old Lady: “No, I’m not telling you my age. I tell you, it is most impolite for you to ask.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I did not want to offend, but you do—”

Old Lady: “Well, you were. You don’t ask a lady her age!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but—”

Old Lady: “Give us our tickets already!”

(The cashier finishes the transaction, and still a bit undignified, both ladies leave. My mum and I approach the cashier.)

My Mum: “I have no problem telling you I am over 55, and have proof for you too. Now, I believe you do have senior citizen discount for which I qualify?”

Cashier: “Certainly, ma’am. So that will be one senior citizen and one adult?”

(Both ladies, clearly above 55, hear my mum speak; realizing their error, they look at their tickets and then to the cashier as to judge their chances of getting money back. With some disappointment, they decide against it.)

(I work in a museum located in an Elizabethan manor house, which naturally shows a few signs of wear and tear. Today, I’m in a room with a large crack across the wall. I’m also a huge fan of the television show ‘Doctor Who.’ I carry a toy sonic screwdriver in my bag and have the phone number that is suppose to be the Doctor’s keyed into my phone. A young boy and his parents come into my room and spot the crack.)

Boy: “Look, Mummy, a crack! It’s The Silence!”

(The Silence are a race of monsters that created cracks in time and cause you to forget them as soon as you stop looking at them. His parents look pained, so I step in.)

Me: “Don’t worry kid; this museum is a monster-free zone.”

Boy: “How do you know? You might have just forgotten them.”

Me: “Nah, The Doctor came and checked the crack for us; he said it’s fine.”

Boy: “Really? You’re not just making that up?”

Me: “Of course not! I’ll prove it.”

(I pull the sonic screwdriver out of my handbag, and the boy’s eyes go wide.)

Me: “See? The Doctor gave me this just in case one turns up, but I’ve never had to use it yet.”

Boy: “Wow!”

Me: “And if I really get into trouble…”

(I pull out my phone, bring up my contact list and show him the number listed as ‘The Doctor.’)

Me: “…he told me just to give him a call and he’d come right over.”

Boy: “AWESOME!”

(The boy is delighted for the rest of the visit, and his parents thank me profusely. Apparently he’d been skittish of cracks since the episode went out, and I’d been the first person to reassure him completely. Later, my boss came round with a thank you card they’d got me, addressed to ‘the Doctor’s companion.’ It made my day!)

(I volunteer regularly at a big science museum in Columbus, which has everything divided up into different ‘worlds.’ The world I work in is set up as ruins on a mysterious island, where you have to go around solving puzzles in order to ‘wake up’ statues and eventually enter the main tower. It’s a slow morning and the only guests are a mother and her kids, one about six months and the other about three.)

Mother: “What do you see when you wake up, [son]?”

Son: “Umm…”

Mother: “If you stand there and look straight up, what do you see?”

Son:*looks around, then down at his shoes* “Umm…”

Me:*cheerfully* “Up at the sky!”

(I raise my hands up and wave them around a little, trying to encourage him to look up. Eventually he does and his face lights up.)

Son: “A snake!”

Mother: “Hooray!”

Me: “Hooray!”

Son: “Hooray for me!”

(They proceed around the rest of the area with the mother gently directing her toddler through each puzzle. I’m meant to stay in my assigned area, but every once in a while I hear a little voice pipe up with ‘hooray for me!’)

Customer: “Rose DeWitt-Bukater, and Jack Dawson. I looked everywhere in the list, and they’re not there.”

Me: “No, they wouldn’t be.”

Customer: “Well that’s stupid. Rose should be in the first class list, and Jack should be in the third class. This is wrong.”

Me: “Because they’re not real.”

Customer: “No, I’m pretty sure they were.”

Me: “And I’m definitely sure they were not.”

Customer: “Well in the movie—”

Me: “In the MOVIE, Rose gives them a fake name and tells them she’s in third class. She would be listed as Rose Dawson if she existed. And Jack won his ticket in the first ten minutes of the movie, so his name would have not been on a record anywhere, which the movie pointed out in the first five minutes. And it’s a movie.”

Customer: “Next you’re going to tell me the Heart Of The Ocean is fake too!”